221 B Cougar St
by ritergurl12
Summary: Sherlock is all alone now that John has gotten married and moved out. However, comfort and more comes to the detective from the flat below in his landlady, Mrs. Hudson. I DON'T own these characters, I just love messin' with them. Enjoy! Sherlock/Hudson. HUDLOCK!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: A friend of mine suggested this. Hope this screws with your mind the next time you watch Sherlock. BTW, I don't own any characters in the series.**

'Boring. Boring. Stupid. More idiotic than Anderson. Oh, John.' Sherlock stopped flipping through the stack of 5 month old mail. He found a postcard from John and Mary's honeymoon that they sent him. 'Oh, he got sun poisoning.'

"Hudders!" he called into the kitchen.

"Yes Sherlock."

"John has sun poisoning. You'd think he'd know better seeing as he was an Army Doctor."

"Sherlock," Hudson walked in, "that was 4 months ago. He's better now."

"So it was" Sherlock inspected the date of the card. A thousand thoughts past through his mind, mainly, that by being with Mary so much now, John wasn't thinking clearly and was no longer being smart. Well, as smart as John could be.

Sherlock jumped up from his chair and began pacing.

"Sherlock, you miss that boy. In fact," she said with a blush, "I'd say you lo-"

"My GAWD Mrs. Hudson! how many times must I tell you. John was my flatmate, friend, and business partner, though really he just blogged about what I did. We were NOT dating or lovers or anything of that sort. I am straight, not gay." Sherlock was quite annoyed with Hudson always saying that about him. He wasn't into men, he just never found time to be with a woman.

Hudson smiled and turned away. "What ever you say love."

After dinner that night (Mrs. Hudson had finally taught Sherlock what microwave dinners were) Sherlock, dressed in pajamas and a robe, slumped down stairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat to watch Masterpiece Classic. Sherlock found the shows mostly boring, but he enjoyed keeping Hudders company. After sitting trough 30min of the show, Sherlock shifted in his seat.

"Oh calm down Sherlock, I thought you enjoyed this show."

Sherlock rolled his eyes 'Bored. Bored. Boredboredboredboredbored. So BORED!' was all he could think.

"I have got to do something. I've done nothing in forever!"

Hudson looked up from the show, "Dearie, you've solved 10 cases this week, and its only tuesday."

"Yes, but I'm bored NOW!"

Mrs. Hudson smiled to herself and blushed. She looked away while she had a thought of a memory from her past. Sherlock noticed the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks.

"Is it too hot in here Hudders? Should I crack a window?"

Hudson was pulled away from her raunchy thought. "No. I'm perfectly alright. I was just remembering all the events that would follow every time Mr. Hudson said that to me." more to herself though Sherlock could still hear "and what fun they were." ;)

"Um, do you mean-?"

Hudson stood up, dropping her robe. Underneath was lacy black lingerie. Sherlock was shocked. To him, she was always a Grandmother like lady. Always wearing frumpy sweaters, never, for as long as he knew Mrs. Hudson, did Sherlock picture her having the body of a 40 year old. Hudson stepped towards Sherlock.

"Do you remember when I told you that I was an exotic dancer?"

"Mrs. Hudson, where is your nightgown?"

Hudson smiled and rolled her eyes. She straddled Sherlock's bony legs. She leaned over to him and kissed his neck.

"Mrs. Hudson-?"

"Dammit Sherlock! Call me Martha!" And with that, she shoved her tongue down his throat.

Sherlock had never been good with outward emotion from any human being, especially women. But this was one emotion he had never seen from one, save that one video he found on John's laptop late on night three years ago. And it was coming from Hudders. His Hudders! He had always cared for her, even more than his own mother, and he knew she loved him but this wasn't that kind of love.

"Hudd-"

"Oh shut-up Sherlock and take off your shirt." she demanded. Martha had never done something like this before. Though Mr. Hudson had made her do such actions for his clients, after his death, she had put this part of her behind her. It was only today when she decided to give in to old carnal desires.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was a mental mess. Here, on top of him, was a woman who he saw as basically his mother, except not as irritable, making him feel, well, different. There was a stirring in him. A stirring that John had once tried to explain to him and Mycroft had often mocked in other humans. He was afraid of these feelings. But he liked them. Slowly, he sat up straighter, meeting Martha's advances in time with her. What seemed like an eternity of pure heaven, Sherlock finally did as Hudders had told him and removed his shirt. Martha rubbed up against his bare skin, observing his flawless physique.

"Those scars are healing nicely." she murmured into his neck.

"They should be. You mended them."

They groped and pawed at each other. Not speaking, and still asking the other for more.

**A/N: Ha! Hope you'd enjoy this. I know, pretty messed up, but come on. This has bound to cross your mind, at least once. Please, though, do comment. I know you all read stories like this. The more comments, the more chapters ;) **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sherlock bolted up right. He could feel his whole body covered in sweat. _What the hell was that?_ Where did that, that dream come from? What? Why? _God, get a hold of yourself man. This is irrational._

Sherlock attempted to slow his heart rate. He looked down at the sleeping person laying next to him. That sweet, beautiful person who had been there everytime for him. This perfect person that he had been too focused on other things to realise this person was perfect for him.

Molly was beautiful.

He watched her sleep, but didn't think about her. Only that dream. He had been expecting a dream like that. The kind that are about, well, two people in that kind of position. Ugh, how human. John had told him about such dreams and that people have them. Well, he had included the word "normal" but that was an irrelevant fact. But why Mrs. Huddson? She was the landlady. She was, well, not Molly.

Slowly, he sunk back down into the sheets.

Molly rolled over, blinked a few times and smiled up at Sherlock. "You been up long stranger?"

"Hm? Oh, no, no. I was just, just thinking." He hesitated fot a moment then smiled at her, lying yet telling the truth.

"What about?"

"Oh, nothing. Dull things. Nothing to worry about. Goodnight Hudders."

"Who?"

Erm, Hooper. Goodnight my Hooper." Sherlock leaned down and kissed her forehead, but in his mind, another face appeared.


End file.
